


handmade heaven

by luckcat



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26686978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckcat/pseuds/luckcat
Summary: The fact that made this infinitely more frustrating for both of them was that theywanted. It wasn’t a hunger for sex. It was instead a hunger for the quiet early morning intimacy that came from waking up curled around someone while you were both half asleep. They were getting better though, through their studied practice at understanding each other and the passage of time.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	handmade heaven

**Author's Note:**

> beta-ed by the lovely, wonderful, amazing and talented [@dogmealyem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmealyem/pseuds/dogmealyem)
> 
> the title is from the song 'handmade heaven' by Marina

The casual intimacy that both Adam and Ronan hungered for had taken effort to build. It required practice before it became a completely natural thing. This was, of course, to the great frustration of both Adam and Ronan. Adam, even after the better part of a summer where touch was a friendly constant, was a little jumpy.

Ronan tried to understand, he imagined that it was hard to re-conceptualize instincts that had kept you safe for most of your life. He also thought that although he tried to be less of an asshole when it was just him and Adam, his own defenses occasionally prickled as well.

(so maybe they were both a little jumpy actually, this was a very understandable fact)

* * *

  
This challenge was complicated because Adam would occasionally roll so that his good ear was shoved into a pillow (or Ronan’s chest) and then be startled because he didn’t hear Ronan moving. It was also complicated by the fact that if Ronan fell asleep not paying attention he could turn a quiet morning into “Ronan and Adam’s adventures catching dream creatures that want to kill you” which was not either of their favorite activities and justified the occasional startle.

The first time they had realized that Adam’s deaf ear contributed to the complicated tangle was one afternoon at the barns, the two of them stretched out on a couch and claiming to watch a movie (though the actual plan had been more cuddling than anything else), Adam resting his good ear on Ronan’s chest. Adam had been resting his good ear on Ronan’s chest.

Adam had been half asleep listening to Ronan’s heartbeat, eyes closed. Ronan had reached his free hand up to try to thread it through Adams hair and Adam’s resulting jump had scared both of them. Adam had ended up halfway off the couch before he had realized that he was both safe and with Ronan, although both those realizations did nothing to stop the pounding of his heart. He hadn’t said much about it besides apologizing for scaring Ronan. (Ronan had said that Adam was being an ass trying to apologize and that if anyone should apologize it was Adam’s father. This was peppered with far more insults.) It had taken them the rest of the movie to completely drain the tension each was holding.

The next time they curled up together Adam snuggled into the opposite side of Ronan than usual. (This change would soon become a permanent one). Ronan was about to make an asshole comment about not being able to see the TV as well when he realized a possible reason for the change and decided to keep his mouth firmly shut.

“I’ll miss being able to hear your heart” was Adam’s only response to Ronan’s raised eyebrow. Ronan pulled him closer, letting out a ginormous sigh that lifted Adams' head slightly. Adam appreciated the gesture.

“I don’t have a heart Parrish” Ronan had replied wittily, and then “anyone with any sense would know that I already gave it to you. I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Adam elbowed him in the stomach. Gently(-ish). They had settled in and Adam had been both relieved by how much less tense he was and exasperated at the fact that he had to make yet another small adjustment to his life to accommodate his damm ear. It was satisfying not to be startled every time Chainsaw, or Opal, or Ronan did something that he wouldn’t have been able to expect otherwise, especially because then he could shut his eyes and nap through whatever dumb action movie Ronan had picked.

* * *

The fact that made this infinitely more frustrating for both of them was that they wanted. It wasn’t a hunger for sex (that was present but considerably less of an issue, sex had the advantage of being something intentional, something that was new and not tainted by a lifetime of bad experience). It was instead a hunger for the quiet early morning intimacy that came from waking up curled around someone while you were both half asleep.

They were getting better though, through their studied practice at understanding each other and the passage of time. Slowly their wounds were becoming scars, the edges healing over and becoming easier to bear, a new surface that required less accommodation.

* * *

  
A much rougher sketch of these thoughts was running through Ronans head as he marveled at Adam, asleep and curled up next to him. Adam looked softer like this, younger too. Mostly, looking at Adam made Ronan so intensely protective that he knew without any question that he would both live and die for him. Do anything for him. These thoughts scared him a little.

Beside him Adam stirred quietly, the hand he had casually flung across Ronan felt for him with the soft intention of someone still half-asleep. It was painfully beautiful, this early morning interlude. Adam’s hand finally found Ronan, the moment all soft sheets and brushed fingertips. Something in Ronan’s heart fluttered, soft and fearsome, as Adam settled his hand just below Ronan’s ribs and pulled himself closer, squishing his face against Ronan’s side before resting his head between Ronan’s arm and his chest.

Adam half mumbled “you awake” into Ronan’s chest, voice unguarded and thick with his Henrietta accent. Ronan thought that the accent was both incredibly endearing and sexy. He folded the memory of it away -by the time they both were in the kitchen having finished their coffee most of Adams' accent would have disappeared. Swallowed by the part of Adam that wanted to be more than another boy stuck forever in the small town he had been born in. Ronan sometimes burned with vicarious resentment at the fact that the world had made Adam feel like he had to hide parts of himself.

“Hmmm” was Ronan’s rumbled reply, which got him a small poke in the ribs from Adam.

“Come here then” at Adam’s request Ronan wiggled Adam closer instead, a task that was mildly pointless as they were already fairly wrapped up in each other’s warmth. Adam was a creature that had been starved of gentle touch and in these quiet moments he was greedy, trying to make up for a lifetime of deprivation in a single summer morning. He couldn’t actually, of course, but he was gaining ground every day. Becoming more fluent in the language of gentle touch, of soft words, of love.

Ronan’s hand gently ruffled through Adam’s hair, his fingers working to untangle the half-knots. Adam didn’t start at this exactly, but Ronan felt him tense vaguely before relaxing against his chest again. He contemplated kissing Adam but that would have required an awful lot of shifting and this moment felt like spun sugar, it was infinitely delicate and sweet.

“Mom used to do this to my hair, when it was longer” Ronan kept talking because he knew that Adam liked to feel the slight rumble of his words with the cheek that was pressed to Ronan’s chest as close to the base of his neck as he could get. Adam said it was soothing, to be able to feel the slight rumble of Ronan talking in the rest of his face even if his ear wasn’t particularly cooperative. “I was always terrible at sitting still and she was so patient when I was being a little shit”

Adam nodded softly against Ronan, a movement that Ronan felt more than saw.

Ronan continued “she’d tell stories too” and with a small pause, a moment for him to swallow the part that demanded he be prickly even in soft moments like this, “do you want me to try to remember one?” He liked to think that Adam wouldn’t notice the moment of tension that had crept into his shoulders. Ronan’s mother’s death was a wound that still felt raw and Ronan thought that it was something that would maybe never heal. He thought that he didn’t want it to.

“Only if you want to” Adams' voice was soft and comforting to Ronan. “but I would love to hear one”

The rumble of Ronan’s chest started up again, telling a story about a series of women who had been turned into swans. There was the occasional missing piece of storyline filled in by Ronan valiantly adding a variety of curses in the same even voice that he told the rest of the story in. Ronan was an excellent storyteller even if he was filling in half the story with curses because he had forgotten some of the detail.

Adam thought that maybe this was what being safe felt like. What being loved felt like. He would have spiraled more on the nature of love, on if anyone knew what it was. The soft rhythm of Ronan saying “and then because the swans were smart and they didn’t listen to their evil fucking step mother they got out of their shit situation. And then the fucking swans…” lulled him back into the soft half awake half/asleep state that he had been in.

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna come say hi on tumblr and yell about trc i'm [@czernydefensesquad](https://czernydefencesquad.tumblr.com/)
> 
> any thoughts/comments are super appreciated!!


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